Time in essence ethereal yet so solid it reigns supreme. It has its own place in its own kingdom and rarely a day passes without mention of the time. Time to go; time to get ready. Time to wake up; time to go to sleep. An expression of impatience: “She’s been with us for almost a year now, it’s time she got used to us”. Thoughts voiced aloud by a mother who didn’t understand her small daughter and thought time was all that was needed to bridge the gap between leaving her child and getting to know her years later. Time the great healer: time has no emotions. It doesn’t know that it has been imbued with healing qualities by mankind and that it sometimes falls short of expectations when it doesn’t deliver.

Time was, when the grass was greener, when men were gentlemen, when times were better, and men treated their women like women should be treated. Time was when children were better behaved. Time: this hazy, glowing picture of perfection. a picture portraying ideals which never really existed. More like a mirage, an oasis contrived by the desperate thirst-filled individual painstakingly making his way to the illusion of water.

Time raised to immortality in Ecclesiastes 3: “To everything there is a season, time for every purpose under heaven”. Time is of the essence it has been said. Time waits for no man, that too we’ve heard. Father Time, a respected figure: but why no “Mother Time”: was there only room for you? Could the two not reign side by side?

Time passes, ride on time, time to let things go, haven’t you noticed the time? Time goes so slowly. Time can do so much. So much responsibility has been attributed to this word used almost daily, sometimes casually without much thought and at other times with such reverence that it is a wonder how it encapsulates so much of the human experience from birth to death.